"That'll help." Bamer pushed the map to one side, replacing it with a sheaf of photo enlargements. "Dr. Hafner also took an extensive set of photos of the area and suggested we try shape analysis on the hills. I think it might be worth a try."
"Yeah." Meredith picked up the top photo, glanced at the one beneath it.
"Unfortunately, it would mean putting all this on the computer, and I'm still not sure I want to risk that."
Barner shrugged. "I'll admit my knowledge of computers is limited, but it seems to me that if you tore out the entire remote-access system the thing should be secure enough. No one's going to eavesdrop on buried fiberop cables from thirty thousand kilometers, and the machine itself should be adequately shielded."
" 'Should be' is about as far as I get, too. Given our truly abysmal ignorance of the local state of the art in such things, it's not very reassuring." The colonel dropped the photo back onto the stack. "You might as well put all these into your boobyproofed file. I'm going to have to get back to Unie—some son of silly resolution Carmen Olivero told me the council was taking up this afternoon. Keep me informed on Hafner's progress."
"Yes, sir."
Heading back outside, Meredith paused beside his car and peered for a moment toward the south. Two harvesters were visible in the fields, working to bring in the meager crop. Nearly thirty percent of the plants had died under the shock of having their trace metals twice yanked out of their soil. / hope the Celeritas is bringing plenty of extra food, he thought, climbing behind the wheel and starting the car. And lots of spare fuel, too.
The last speech—Perez's, as usual—was already in progress when Meredith finally showed up, choosing a chair by the door instead of joining the others at the table. Carmen shot a brief look of annoyance his direction and then returned her attention to Perez and the other faces around the table. The outcome, unfortunately, was no longer really in doubt. From previous speeches and the accompanying applause, it was clear that at least six of the ten councillors were strongly in favor of Perez's resolution, and of the four remaining only two were definitely against. She'd hoped to at least get a tie situation, where she would have the deciding vote, but it was obviously not going to happen.
Perez sat down, and Carmen waited for the applause to ran its course. "Further comments?" she asked. "Then we'll proceed directly to a vote. All in favor … ?"
The tally was a solid seven to three. Suppressing a grimace, Carmen turned to Meredith. "Colonel, the Council of Astra calls on you to issue an order barring all but Astran citizens from approach or examination of Mt. Olympus, the cable lying north of Wright, and all alien technology and artifacts that may be subsequently uncovered. Specifically, this order is to include both those members of Dr.
Chang's group already on Astra and the various alien representatives currently in this solar system."
"Request denied," Meredith said briskly. "Any other business you want me here for?"
A ripple of displeasure went around the table, and Carmen braced herself for the inevitable outburst. But Perez kept his poise.
"I'm afraid you don't understand, Colonel," he said calmly. "This is one resolution you're not going to simply sweep away into a corner somewhere. We've done our homework on this one: I have petitions signed by seventy-two percent of the inhabitants of Ceres that support this resolution, and other councillors have similar proofs of support from their districts. The Spinneret belongs to Astra, Colonel, and neither you nor the faceless bureaucrats in Washington are going to take it away from us."
Meredith regarded him coolly. "You have a remarkably poor memory for certain facts of life, Perez, such as those dealing with your citizenship and my authority here. I'm at perfect liberty to ignore anything you or your seventy-two percent have to say—and if you get rude about it I can toss the lot of you into detention."
Perez didn't bat an eye. "It wouldn't be nearly as neat and tidy as you make it sound. If you don't throw Chang's group out immediately, I can guarantee there will be rioting—and this time I won't be trying to hold anyone back."
Meredith didn't move or change expression, but suddenly Carmen had the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps Perez had pushed the colonel a shade too far.
"In such a case, Mr. Perez," Meredith said, his voice deadly, "neither would I."
"Of course," Perez said. "And you would win … but only temporarily. Because signs of civil strife down here could very possibly persuade one or more of the aliens out there that we needed some strong, neutral hand on us—strictly for our own good, of course—and take the appropriate action."
The room was very quiet. Meredith never flinched or broke eye contact with Perez, but Carmen sensed his frosty silence was a simple lack of any answer to that. After a few seconds Perez pulled a thick folder from the stack of papers in front of him and added to it a copy of the Council's resolution. Standing, he stepped over to Meredith and offered him the bundle. "I think you'll find, Colonel," he said, "that above all else we must present a united front if we're going to survive here."
Tight-lipped, Meredith got to his feet and accepted the papers. "We'll see," he said shortly. With a single glance at Carmen he turned and left the room.
Carmen licked her lips. "This meeting is adjourned," she said, banging her makeshift gavel with rather more force than necessary and immediately turning her full attention to loading her briefcase. The others took the hint and began packing their own paraphernalia without protest and with a minimum of quiet conversation. She waited until the last sounds of footsteps were cut off by the closing door before permitting her chosen expletive to come out.
"Agreed. And I apologize."
She looked up, startled, to find Perez sitting quietly in the chair Meredith had recently vacated. "I thought you'd slithered out with the others," she snarled.
He shrugged. "I wanted to make sure you were all right. And that you understood why I'm doing what I am."
"I'm fine," she bit out, getting to her feet. "And you don't need to explain the finer points of blackmail technique to me, thank you."
She tried to step past him, but he rose and took her arm, and before she knew it he had steered her back to the table and seated her again. "You're angry because you don't agree with my methods," he said, sitting down next to her. "But I'm afraid it's a simple fact of history that the only way a ruling class is ever persuaded to share power is through violence—either actual or threatened."
"So why don't you just go ahead and ally yourself with one of those aliens out there and do the job right?" she said bitterly.
He sighed. "I'd hoped you would grow to understand what I stand for better than that. Don't you see?—I'm not trying to exchange one inequity for another. Astra can be this century's version of the Americas, a place where people can come to escape the foolish rigidity of Earth politics. But that can't happen as long as we're simply a transplanted chunk of the U.S."
"And what are you going to feed all these tired, huddling masses when they get here?" she shot back. "We can't even grow enough to feed the ten thousand people we've got."
"We can feed them anything they want—up to and including imported caviar. Or haven't you considered what our Spinneret cables might sell for?"
She shook her head. "Your ideas of marketing show the same shallow thinking your politics do. If the cable turns out to be really useful it's not going to be ours much longer, not with all those warships circling overhead."
"We can handle them," he assured her. "Playing big powers off against each other is a skill the Third World is well acquainted with."
She laughed, a short, derisive bark. "Oh, terrific. You scramble to get us free of American politics and instead turn us into a transplanted Yugoslavia spending all of our energy juggling the local superpowers. What a great improvement."